MY love lies underground      With her face upturned to mine,
     And her mouth unclosed in a last long kiss
     That ended her life and mine.
 
     I dance at the Christmas party
     Under the mistletoe
     Along with a ripe, slack country lass
     Jostling to and fro.
 
     The big, soft country lass,
     Like a loose sheaf of wheat
     Slipped through my arms on the threshing floor
     At my feet.
 
     The warm, soft country lass,
     Sweet as an armful of wheat
     At threshing-time broken, was broken
     For me, and ah, it was sweet!
 
     Now I am going home
     Fulfilled and alone,
     I see the great Orion standing¹
     Looking down.
 
     He's the star of my first beloved
     Love-making.
     The witness of all that bitter-sweet
     Heart-aching.
 
     Now he sees this as well,
     This last commission.
     Nor do I get any look
     Of admonition.
 
     He can add the reckoning up
     I suppose, between now and then,
     Having walked himself in the thorny², difficult
     Ways of men.
 
     He has done as I have done
     ............